


Downfall

by redhotpandas



Category: CrankGameplays - Fandom
Genre: Don't read this if ur already sad, M/M, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-12 00:53:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11726118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redhotpandas/pseuds/redhotpandas
Summary: And yes, that was partly the truth. But his friends definitely wouldn't believe that a man came into his room every night at 12 a.m. and spoke to him.Ethan's got a a little problem, but it's only a matter of time before it spirals out of control.





	Downfall

**Author's Note:**

> Ugh this was only supposed to be 2k words sorry it took so long
> 
> Fun fact: I'm afraid of the dark so that's what my inspiration is for this fic
> 
> This was a bitch to edit bc I didn't know how to put italics in ao3 I just write this in my little fanfic journal at night with a flashlight 
> 
> Prompts are always accepted!! Yeehaw motherfuckers!!!

Ethan could hear the clock ticking. A sense of dread was beginning to form in the back of his throat. He swallowed. It wasn't time to panic. At least, not yet.

He could feel himself sweating; the fan in his room was comforting to hear, but it just blew hot air around. Los Angeles was extremely hot even at night, but Ethan just couldn't seem to get rid of all his blankets. They provided a sense of security.

When he turned his head again, he almost swore that out of the corner of his eye, the fan seemed change shape. He looked back at it quickly, but it looked fine. 

Belatedly, he noticed the closet door was open as he surveyed the room with his little flashlight. The closet was on the wall nearest to him, so he peeled the covers off and closed the door as fast as he could so he could get back in bed.

Although, Ethan had plenty of time until Dark came. 

A sweep of his flashlight to the wall clock confirmed that. It was about eleven thirty. Dark came at twelve. 

Ethan's glasses were starting to slip off his nose from his sweat. He pushed them back up. Suddenly, the fan stopped. The ball of anxiety in his chest tightened. 

 

Some of his friends had noticed the dark circles under his eyes recently.

_“Ethan,” they'd said. “Are you getting enough sleep?”_

_He had shrugged._

_“Oh, you know me. Never had a summer as hot as this back in Maine. And boy, is it hot at night.” he said, liltingly, in one of his faux accents. Then, switching back to his normal, believable tone:_

_“It's just so_ _hot.”_

 

And yes, that was partly the truth. But his friends definitely wouldn't believe that a man came into his room every night at 12 a.m. and spoke to him. 

Ethan called him Dark, because that's what he was. Mysterious, dark, and evil. And his sleek voice sounded just like Mark's did when he was doing his Darkiplier impression.

_Speak of the devil._ Ethan glanced at the clock again. Only a couple more minutes. 

The last few moments before he came were positively killing him. He reluctantly shut off his light and set his glasses over on his nightstand. Ethan pulled the covers up to his shoulders, then slowly deepened his breathing. 

Footsteps faintly approached his door. Ethan gritted his teeth, tensing. The footsteps stopped. Ethan closed his eyes. 

There was the sound of the door opening, and then he padded over to Ethan's bed. He could feel the dip and heard the creak of a spring as he sat down next to Ethan. 

During the day, he wanted nothing more than to be able to sneak a glimpse of this terrifying person. But now, he would always get the feeling that something would happen to him if he did. 

“Ethan,” growled a low voice next to his ear, “My power is growing stronger. Soon, you'll be able to see me as I truly am. I can't wait, my love.” Dark brushed a lock of Ethan's hair away from his face.

“I'm going to break you.”

That certainly sent a chill up his spine. 

He leaned in and kissed Ethan's lips before getting up and stopping by the door. 

“Also, I know you're awake.” 

Then Dark left, shutting the door behind him.

He had never told him that before. What did that mean, that Dark was going to break him?

Ethan wondered if today would be his last day on Earth. Would Dark kill him?

It was looking like he would have to make the most of his day today, instead of doing the usual nothing. 

He thought about the kiss. That wasn't new, but Ethan hated it all the same. It was cold, calculating, and probably what kissing a corpse felt like. It was like Dark didn't have any body heat.

That was probably true, actually.

Dark kissed Ethan like he was telling him that he owned him, like he was plotting something. 

Ethan was practically shaking from the whole experience. But he would just be back the next night all the same.

 

Ethan couldn't go back to sleep. Tonight might be the night Dark was going to kill him. How could he sleep, when he had said that right to his face? 

He had done nothing out of the ordinary that day, knowing he might die that night. Ethan told everyone how much he loved them, though, but they didn't think it peculiar. They did that on a daily basis. 

He even attempted to muster up the courage to spill his guts to his crush, but ended up chickening out at the last second. Ethan simply wasn't ready to tell them yet. 

Tonight he would face Dark and ask for more time. 

 

It was just as humid and gross as it was before. The sheets clung to his legs. Ethan sat up and shone his light on the clock, but he couldn't make out the time.

That was probably a bad sign. 

He passed his flashlight over his desk. Ethan had placed a note there in case he _did_ die, entailing why he did, a confession to his crush, how his friends shouldn't feel guilty, et cetera. Thinking back on it, the note seemed kind of harsh. He was probably going to get rid of it in the morning, if he survived. 

A creak of the floorboards, right on time. One footstep.Two. 

As always, a pause just before the door opened. 

Ethan felt dizzy from fear. He was breathing too shallowly, and sweat practically poured down his face. He sat up and faced the direction of the door, and folded his arms across his chest.

When the doorknob started to turn, though, he suddenly screwed his eyes shut. He didn't want to see.

Dark stepped into the room and stopped. Ethan swallowed. God, he was so fucking scared. He steeled his nerves as best he could. Dark was clearly waiting for Ethan to say whatever he was going to say. 

“Are you here to kill me, then?” said Ethan, voice trembling. 

“No.” Heavy footsteps thudded over to his bed. When he spoke next, Ethan could feel breath ghosting over his neck.

“As I said before, I'm not here to kill you. You would have no use to me otherwise. All I need from you,” he whispered into Ethan's ear, “Is your spirit.”

Ethan shuddered.

Suddenly he felt sleek metal being pressed against his chest. 

“Do you feel this? I know you won't open your eyes, for fear of seeing me.” 

It was obviously a knife. Ethan was internally pleading him not to use it. He seemed to read his mind, however, because then he gripped Ethan's forearm and slashed against his skin. 

“This is what you're going to have to get used to.”

Ethan cried out and cradled his arm against his chest, shrinking back against his pillows. Blood welled up and dropped down to his elbow. He quickly balled up his sheets and pressed it against the wound. 

“Why?” he choked out, throat closing up with fear. Just what was Dark going to do to him?

Before Ethan could attempt to leave his bed, Dark stopped him by pinning down his wrists on either side of his head. His nails dug into Ethan's skin sharply. 

“Oh, Ethan,” he sighed, “I can do whatever I want.” And he sliced open Ethan's shirt in one fluid motion. 

Ethan screamed.

 

When Ethan woke up, he knew he had had a nightmare. Those weren't uncommon from time to time for him. He couldn't remember what he had dreamt about, though. 

Well, until he did his laundry. He dumped it all out on the floor to sort, and picked up a shirt to inspect. The material hung limply from his hand. It looked like it had been severely cut.

A flash of the feeling of someone cutting open his shirt made him remember. Ethan could taste the dread in his mouth. Shaken, he examined his forearm.

There, crudely shaped, was a ragged scar running across the inside of his arm. It looked like it had been made a few weeks ago, instead of last night, but Ethan knew what had caused it.

He went into the bathroom, locked the door, and cried. 

 

Ethan ended up wearing a hoodie to work in the morning, despite the atrocious heat. He sat down in his chair and tried to keep a low profile, to no avail. He was noticed immediately by Tyler.

“Dude. Aren't you hot in that?” he asked.

“No,” replied Ethan. 

It was pretty obvious that he was uncomfortable. Ethan's face was flushed, and the back of his head was wet with sweat.  
Tyler sighed, crossing his arms. “Ethan, you are obviously uncomfortable in that.”

“I'm not,” Ethan protested airily, not looking up from the computer screen. 

“If you don't take it off, you're going to get heatstroke.”

“Uh huh.” A distracted click of the mouse. 

“I really don't want you to get heatstroke, Ethan.” 

Ethan finally turned around to look at him. “Ugh, fine, mom.” He playfully stuck out his tongue. Tyler rolled his eyes back.

He stood up and stretched (with an obscenely loud groan), and slipped his hoodie off over his head, hanging it over the back of his chair. 

“That's better.” Tyler smiled approvingly. Ethan grinned back. 

Once Tyler left the room, though, Ethan made a mad dash to the bathroom, locked the door, and violently rifled through the drawers and medicine cabinet. There had to be something to cover up his arm. Bandages, hell, even a little bit of makeup would do. 

Ethan could feel his face growing his hot and his eyes beginning to water. 

Finally, after checking the bottom cabinet for the fifth time, he located an old box of band-aids way in the back. Ethan sniffed and exhaled, sinking down to the floor and leaning against the wall. It only took three band-aids to cover it, barely; he thought it would've been more. But, no matter. 

Everything was fine, he just had to make sure his friends didn't notice.

 

“Ethan, can I talk to you?” Tyler pulled him aside in the hall. It was late; the team was getting ready to go home. As much as Ethan wanted to go back to his apartment and pass out, he knew that was an impossibility. Still, a guy could hope, right?

Ethan stopped. “What about?” he asked hesitantly. 

“Well, I was wondering-- and you don't have to answer if you don't want to--”

“Yeah?” A note of warning rose in Ethan's voice. _Please don't ask about my arm._

“But, uh, I was wondering if you maybe wanted to get dinner together sometime.”

Ethan blinked. “You're asking me out?” he asked, taken aback. He could've been knocked over with a feather in that moment. 

“Um, if you don't want to, it's fine--” Tyler frowned, clearly getting the wrong idea.

“Of _course_ I want to!” Ethan exclaimed, pumping his fists in the air. He realized how that might look a little too enthusiastic, so he tried toning it down. 

“I mean, yes, I'd definitely like to get dinner with you.” he said nonchalantly. _Totally chill._

Tyler raised an eyebrow, but otherwise did not acknowledge Ethan's behavior. “Alright, how's Friday sound?”

“Friday is good,” Ethan said casually. “Um, I'll text you later. See you then!” He made move to leave.

“Ethan, we're going to see each other tomorrow.” Tyler smiled.

“I knew that.” Ethan gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “Anyway, I can't wait! Bye!” He quickly slipped out the door before Tyler could answer. 

Once he got in his car, though, he instantly berated himself. “Stupid, stupid,” he muttered. “God, Ethan. What were you even saying?” He shook his head. He should be feeling elated that he had gotten asked out by Tyler. Ethan only had a limited amount of time to feel good about himself before he went to sleep that night.

 

He had tried staying awake or sleeping in different places, but Dark always found him. One time, in a fit of desperation, Ethan had tried to sleep curled up in one of his kitchen cupboards. It had been the first week that Dark had shown up, and he had already tried sleeping in his closet and the pantry. But he had always found him. 

The worst part was the cramped space. Ethan wasn't claustrophobic, so it wasn't really a problem, but even though he was considered short, that didn't mean he could exactly fit into a cupboard with room to spare. 

Ethan was currently in the cupboard in his kitchen again. He wasn't hoping to hide from him; he knew how that had turned out. No, he was hoping that Dark wouldn't be able to get him out of the cupboard. 

What had happened last night...he didn't want a repeat of.

As usual, he had his trusty flashlight to accompany him. At this point, Ethan resigned himself to the fact that he would most likely carry it with him everywhere he went. 

He could already hear him pacing around the kitchen, expensive shoes clacking on the tile floor. 

“Ethan, where _are_ you…?” he sing-songed, passing by Ethan's hiding spot. Maybe he would be safe tonight.

“Just kidding. I know where you are.” The cupboard door slammed open. Ethan curled in on himself. 

“Come on out, Ethan. Don't you want to play?” He said, voice oozing honey and ill-intent. 

Ethan shook his head. 

“That's okay, I'll just have to do it myself.” 

Suddenly rough hands were on Ethan, grabbing him and forcing him out of the cupboard. His head was knocked back and hit the wooden doorframe. Ethan bit back a cry. With a final shove, he found himself face-first with the cool kitchen tile. Instantly, he felt the back of his shirt being pulled, and Dark yanked Ethan up so he was kneeling. 

Freezing fingers forced his chin up. “I quite like this look, you on your knees.”

Ethan trembled under his touch, but said nothing. 

“It’s almost as if you _want_ to do this.” 

Ethan really wished he would stop speaking so cryptically.

Suddenly those fingers were jammed into his mouth. Ethan spluttered, surprised. Then he bit down on them, hard. 

What was more surprising was that Dark didn't yell or recoil. He just calmly removed his hand from Ethan's mouth. 

“Do you really think you can hurt me?” he mused. Then he struck Ethan across the face. Ethan gasped. 

“You are going to do exactly what I say from now on,” he hissed in a darker tone, “or I _will_ kill _everyone you love.”_

Ethan didn't need a second opinion to know that he meant it. 

“Now, open your mouth.”

 

Ethan awoke, after a fit of restless sleeping. Reluctantly, he took in his surroundings. He was in his bedroom, instead of the kitchen, which was a relief. Unfortunately, though, his throat hurt like a bitch. 

He didn't know whether he felt more angry or terrified about what had happened. He settled on apathy, and shoved his face back into his pillow. 

Ethan was _definitely_ taking a sick day.

 

Of course, the team was completely understanding. Amy even offered to come over with soup. That sounded a great idea, because Ethan for the life of him could not figure out a can opener. 

Ethan spent a while waiting for her by playing games on his phone, but it was beginning to hurt his eyes. He set it down on the nightstand and relaxed into his bed, fighting the urge to sleep. Out of the corner of his eye, the closet door moved open an inch, making a light scraping noise.

He didn't react; he was too comfortable to get up. 

The door slid back all the way. 

Ethan sluggishly sat up. He said he might come during the day, was this it? 

“Ethan, I'm getting stronger, thanks to you. I know you can't see me, so you'll only be able to feel me right now, but trust me, one day you _will_ look upon my physical form.”

So Ethan _was_ right. But he was too tired to care. 

“Go away,” he mumbled into his pillow. 

“Go _away_?”Dark said dangerously. Ethan instantly knew he had made a mistake. “I don't _think_ so, sweetheart.”

Ethan felt weight on his legs preventing him from getting up. Hands were on him almost immediately. He started to bite at Ethan's collarbone almost savagely. 

“No, Amy's coming over,” Ethan protested weakly. 

He only chuckled softly in response.

“Stop!” Ethan started to struggle.

Suddenly there was a loud knock on the door. 

He released Ethan as soon as they heard it. 

“Coming!” Ethan shouted, and nearly tripped as he slid to the door in his socks. He gave himself the once-over before opening it. Wearing clothes? Check. Hickies? He checked in the hall mirror. No visible ones, thank goodness.

Upon greeting Amy, though, Dark decided to pinch Ethan's ass. 

“Ow!” Ethan jumped. Amy looked at him, concerned. 

“Uh, my throat hurts _so_ much!” he exclaimed. “Anyway, thanks for coming over! What kind of soup did you bring?” 

Amy smiled. “I didn't know what kind you liked, so I brought some old-fashioned homemade chicken soup. A classic. Mark helped make it.” 

“Really?”

“Well, he helped stir.” Amy's mouth quirked up.

Ethan snorted.

He started to the kitchen, amused. 

“Oh, why don't you get back in bed? I'll bring some to you.” 

“Oh, okay!” Ethan said, mildly surprised. He had never had soup in bed before, when he was sick. It was less of a mess eating it in the kitchen. He walked off.

 

The more he walked around, the worse his growing headache got. He gratefully slipped under his blankets and sighed. His bed might very well be the only safe place he had left in his home. Well, the only place he felt truly safe by himself. 

Ethan was about to nod off when Amy came in carrying two steaming bowls of soup on a tray. She set it on his lap and took a bowl for herself, scooting his desk chair over next to the bed. 

“So, how's the soup?” she asked after taking a sip. 

“It's good,” Ethan said, blowing on another spoonful. “It's definitely better than any I've had.”

“Thanks!” 

A slightly awkward pause ensued. Ethan honestly didn't know what to say. How was he to entertain his guest if he felt like absolute utter shit?

“So I heard you have a hot date this weekend,” Amy began. 

“Oh my god, I knew you would bring that up!” Ethan groaned, covering his eyes with his hand. Amy waved her hand at him dismissively.

“I just wanted to say, I've seen the way you guys look at each other, and I don't want anyone to get hurt.”

“Oh, Amy,” Ethan lolled his head back, “How could I? He's perfect.”

Amy stared at him for a second, then spoke quietly, concern creeping into her voice.

“You could hurt him by hurting yourself.” 

Damn. So they _had_ noticed his arm.

 

Ethan was still thinking about what Amy said hours later. It had been embarrassing and shameful to talk about, even though she was understanding. He made up some bullshit excuse to end the conversation, but she consoled him anyway, not buying the lie. He might have cried in front of her a little, but she promises not to tell anyone. 

Anyway, he obviously hadn't cut himself.

Maybe. He couldn't remember.

All Ethan wanted to do was sleep at this point, but he knew Dark had heard Amy talk about his date with Tyler. 

He was already very possessive of Ethan. What would he when he came?

Ethan told himself over and over that Dark wasn't real, his fear was irrational, but his chest still seized up anyway. The same thudding of footsteps coming down the hall; the same metallic click as the knob turned. He shut his eyes tighter. 

The sound of the door exploding open against the wall made him jolt violently. Ethan could feel the madness in the air, which meant an all-around bad time for him, because Dark was going to take out his frustration on Ethan. 

He hurriedly stomped over Ethan and grabbed his face severely. 

“You're mine,” Dark’s voice was hard. It sounded as though he was afraid of losing him. But of course, he still needed to siphon off Ethan's energy. 

“You're _mine_ and I need you. That's why, come Friday night, I'm going to _kill_ you.”

Ethan went rigid, his breath almost stopping altogether. Dark seemed to like his reaction, because Ethan could feel him smirking when he pressed his face into the crook of his shoulder. 

“I'm going to kill you, Ethan.” He whispered giddily. “Then, you'll be mine forever. And there's nothing you can do about it.”

Needless to say, Ethan fainted from the sheer level of panic induced.

 

“What would you do if you only had 48 hours to live?” Ethan pondered out loud. He scrolled through his phone absent-mindedly, feet propped up on the couch. Tyler glanced up from his own phone. 

“Ethan--” he started.

“No, no, it's not anything like that. It's hypothetical. I'm taking a BuzzFeed quiz. See?” He quickly showed Tyler his screen. 

Tyler relaxed visibly. “Oh.”

“Yeah. So, what would you do?” Ethan asked.

“I dunno, probably spend the time here with everyone. I don't really care for excitement. I tend to get a little overwhelmed.”

This was certainly surprising to Ethan. He thought Tyler would have been the calmest one in the group. He said as much.

“Well, I'm usually freaking out as much as everyone else, just on the inside.”

“Oh no, now we don't have a reliable person who can keep their cool in a crisis! What are we going to do?” Ethan joked.

Tyler raised an eyebrow. “We could probably rely on Kathryn.”

Ethan nodded. “No doubt.” He looked down at his phone again and swiped.

“So, what did you choose?”

“The same as you. 'Spending time with loved ones.’ I can't picture myself doing anything else,” Ethan replied with ease.

“Hm. Why 48 hours, though? Why not just 24?”

“Maybe they just wanted more time?”

“Yeah, probably.”

Ethan could say the same about his predicament. Though he guessed his time limit was mostly because Dark wanted to kill Ethan after his date. It was kind of disconcerting, how he had come to terms with his own death so soon.

Shit, he should probably call his parents. How had he not thought of that sooner?

Ethan excused himself to go do that, but all he got when he called was the answering machine.

“I just wanted to call and say how much I miss you! Love you, bye!”

Beep. 

He didn't really want to cry, not now. Keep it together.

Ethan took a deep breath and re-entered the room.

“So, anyways, want to go play some video games?” He asked, plastering on a smile.

Tyler's eyes softened. “Yeah. Let's do it.”

 

They had stayed up so late trying to one-up each other in Call of Duty: Modern Warfare that Tyler just told him to spend the night. Ethan slept in the guest room, of course.

 

Like anything would've happened between them anyway. Nothing would probably happen tomorrow night, either. Ethan was definitely not a sex-on-the-first-date kind of guy, and he was sure Tyler wasn't either. It was just easier not having to worry about that on top of everything else. 

Unfortunately, he did have his current situation to worry about. Those terrifying footsteps were outside his door, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Ethan hadn't known he would come; it wasn't his apartment. But, it wasn't like Dark had any rules to follow.

He entered the room quietly this time. Ethan was grateful for the fact that he, too, didn't seem to want to wake Tyler. For whatever reason, he didn't know. 

“Oh, Ethan,” he called once he reaches the bed, “Open your eyes.”

A bolt of fear struck his heart. Dark's appearance was finally fully-formed.

He didn't want to see him. Ethan shook his head, eyes clamped shut. 

Once he saw him, there would be no going back. 

Dark put out a hand and began stroking Ethan's hair almost soothingly. 

“Come on, open your eyes.”

Ethan shook his head harder.

Dark stopped stroking and roughly yanked a fistfull of Ethan's hair, pulling him closer. Ethan whimpered.

“ _I'm_ not playing _around_ , sweetheart. Either you do what I say, or _he_ dies.” Dark snapped his fingers. 

Ethan could hear Tyler start to cough from the other room. It grew intense; Tyler sounded like he was positively retching. He was being choked to death, and it was Ethan's fault.

Ethan's eyes flew open. The noise from Tyler's room quieted. 

“Much better.” said Dark, pleased. 

Ethan was staring at a silver suit, exactly like the one used in the _A Date With Markiplier_ video. He was afraid to look up, but he knew he would be forced to sooner or later. 

He looked like Ethan had suspected. Dark was the Darkiplier everyone knew and loved, the persona Mark had created. Exactly like the videos. But, he was real. And he wanted Ethan dead. 

Ethan moved to speak, but Dark put up a hand to silence him before he could say anything. 

“No, I'm not Mark. I know you know who I am. You've known from the very beginning. You see, I'm here because when Mark surrounds himself with a new set of friends every once in awhile, I'm always there, waiting to take the weakest one. We're tied together, me and him. It's a curse on his behalf. The only way to get rid of me is to let me have someone else, even only if it's for a little while. So he and I made a _deal_.”

“No.” Ethan's mouth was dry.

“Yes. It seems as though you're the victim. You know, usually I just torment my victims for a little while. They're shaken, but they don't tell anyone, and Mark insists that I don't maim or kill. However, I wasn't planning on _liking_ you. So I'm going to keep you for myself, by my side for eternity. No one will even remember you, how efficient! So, like he said, you can handle it, right?”

Of fucking _course_ Ethan couldn't handle it. He couldn't handle the first time Dark came into his room all those nights ago. Was this really Mark's fault? Surely he wouldn't do such a thing.

“Oh, but he would,” crooned Dark, seemingly reading Ethan's mind. “There's a lot of things you don't know about him. In _fact_ , there's a lot you don't know about _me_.” 

He tilted Ethan's head back, fingernails lightly tracing a line up over his jugular. Then, out of nowhere, Dark viscously sank his teeth into Ethan's throat.

Ethan thrashed about, every fiber of his being focused on not screaming. He gripped the sheets in agony. 

Dark pulled back and examined his handiwork, swiping the blood over Ethan's collarbone. “Try explaining _that_ in the morning.” 

He sauntered out, leaving Ethan dizzy and fighting back tears.

 

Tyler woke to the sound of thunder outside. After a quick glance at the clock to make sure it wasn't actually time to get up, he shoved his face back into his pillow. He had had a horrible coughing fit sometime during the night, apparently, but after getting a glass of water, he was fine. Weird.

Suddenly, the door creaked open. Tyler hesitantly turned over, eyes shifting to the figure standing in the doorway. 

“Can I sleep in here?” Ethan asked timidly. “I mean, I don't want to be weird or anything, but I don't feel very good right now. Emotionally, I mean.” 

Tyler could hear him sniffling, the poor guy. Amy had told him that Ethan didn't seem to be doing too well, but she hadn't told him why. And as much as Tyler wanted to pry, he didn't want to make Ethan feel worse than he already did. 

“Of course you can sleep with me,” Tyler whispered, and pulled back the covers next to him. Ethan padded over and made himself comfortable, not looking at Tyler. He could just make out the silhouette of a bandage wrapped around Ethan's neck.

“Ethan?” he questioned.

“Please, not right now,” Ethan said in a small voice. 

Tyler's heart could barely take it, but he didn't say anything after that. 

 

Waking up in the morning, Tyler discovered that he was alone in his bed. After putting on his glasses, he padded into the kitchen to see if Ethan might be there. No such luck. He sat down at the table pondering what to do about what he had seen last night.

All he could vaguely remember was Ethan sprawled out next to him; the bandage around his throat illuminated by the moonlight peeking in through the curtains. He was breathtaking, but all Tyler had was concern for him. He wished Ethan would just tell him what had been going on for the past few weeks, so that he could help.

Tyler made some breakfast in an attempt to clear his head, thoughtlessly pulling out some fruit from the crisper. 

Hm. Maybe later he would text Ethan, to see if he was okay. Tyler didn't want to have him go out with him tonight if he wasn't feeling up to it. He typed out a message. 

_Are you okay? It's fine if you aren't able to make it tonight, I understand._

About a half hour later, Ethan responded.

_Sorry about last night. I'd still like to go out tonight, if you aren't upset._

Tyler was a little upset, but not at Ethan. Mostly, at himself for not being able to do anything about Ethan's predicament. He typed back.

_I'm not upset. You don't have to apologize. Why did you think I would be?_

A couple second later, he got a reply. 

_I don't know. Things have been kinda out of control lately. Sorry again._

Tyler typed some more.

_That's okay. Would you like me to pick you up tonight?_

A single word was all he got.

_Sure._

Tyler set his phone down and put his head in his hands. That hadn't sounded like Ethan at all. 

 

Tyler had his best outfit on and was all set to pick up Ethan. He had reserved a spot at a small restaurant that somehow kept up a fancy facade, and after dark he was going to take Ethan to the park and look at the stars. Yes, it sounded a little cheesy, but in his mind, it was perfect. 

Well, almost perfect. Apparently Ethan wasn't at his apartment. 

Tyler had gone up and knocked on the door, but there was no answer. He waited a couple minutes, but no Ethan. Tyler didn't want to panic, but he was getting a little worried, so he decided to call Ethan's phone. Ethan was probably just distracted or something. 

He didn't hear it from inside the apartment, though. Did he just have his phone on silent? Was he even home at all?

It picked up on the fourth ring. 

“Ethan? Where are you?” Tyler asked, hoping he didn't sound as worried as he felt. 

“Um, I'm at the Colorado Street Bridge, I think. Why?” 

Tyler's eyes widened at that. He began descending the stairs rapidly. 

“What do you mean, why? I'm supposed to pick you up for our date, remember? Why aren't you at your apartment?”

“I can't go on our date. I'm just gonna ruin it no matter what.”

“If you couldn't go, you could've just said so. I wouldn't have minded. Are you alright?” 

The bridge was just a couple minutes away. Tyler already knew what Ethan was doing there; if he kept him taking long enough, then everything would be okay.

“Sorry, Tyler. But you'll forget me if I don't do this. Everyone will. Maybe it's selfish to think that, but I don't care. Either way, I'll die, and don't want to be with him.”

Tyler was driving like a madman now, cars zipping by as they blared their horns at him. Just a little farther.

“What do you mean? I could never forget you, Ethan. Is someone making you do this?”

He haphazardly parked and flung himself out of the car, Ethan within his sight. Tyler had never ran so fast in all his life. He didn't call out to him, though, for fear of startling him. 

“I'm really sorry, Tyler. Tell the team I love them, please. And I love you, too.”

Then he hung up. 

Tyler was just about there; Ethan was loosening his grip on the guardrail and if Tyler just reached he could--

_There._

Tyler caught the back of Ethan's jacket and pulled him into his chest. Ethan fought against him for a second, then went limp. His nose was bleeding, and he couldn't seem to stop crying and apologizing, which made Tyler go off and start to cry too, holding Ethan tighter. 

After they had calmed down a bit and the tears were reduced to sniffled, Tyler looked down at him, a lump in his throat.

“Ethan, if you ever do anything like this again, I--I don't know what I'd do if I lost you.”

That made Ethan instantly burst into tears again. Tyler internally winced.

“Come on, let's get you in the car.” He took Ethan's hand and led him there as Ethan furiously wiped his eyes. 

Once in, Tyler turned to him. “So, do you want to talk about this? Because we don't have to. We can just pretend this didn't happen, and continue the night as usual, or we could talk. Whatever you want.”

Ethan swallowed, eyes still wet and red. “Could we talk tomorrow? I'm sorry for ruining our date. Can we continue it?”

Ethan didn't sound like he was really up for it, but Tyler still wanted to delay Ethan going home for a while. 

“Okay,” he said, and they were off.

 

After going through about half a box of tissues, they had dinner. They were both still feeling a little disheartened, but it was everything Tyler hoped it would be: light-hearted, pleasant, and hardly anyone around to notice their blotchy faces.

Tyler even got Ethan to smile, albeit a bit watery. He attempted to pay for everything too, but Ethan wouldn't let him. He didn't fight it, but resolved to pick up the bill next time.

Then, they went to the park after getting some comforting ice cream. Tyler spread his jacket out, and they laid on it, pointing out constellations like something out of a feel-good romantic comedy. 

Tyler couldn't really think of anything else to say, so he told Ethan that he was beautiful, and Ethan blushed immensely. They didn't kiss, but they held hands, and it was just as intimate.

Time flew, though, and soon they were driving back to Ethan's apartment. When they reached the door, Ethan stopped and faced Tyler.

“Um, can you stay? I don't really want to be alone tonight…” He trailed off. 

“Of course,” Tyler spoke comfortingly. 

Ethan went off to change into his pajamas. Seeing as Tyler had none, he opted to sleep in his underwear. He hoped Ethan wouldn't mind. As they got into bed Tyler couldn't help but marvel at how cute Ethan seemed in his bedtime attire, even with that bandage around his neck. 

He pulled Ethan close and sighed into his neck. 

“Goodnight.”

“‘Night,” Ethan yawned. Tyler shut his eyes and fell into a dreamless sleep.

 

Ethan's eyes opened as soon as he was sure Tyler was asleep. He carefully extracted himself from Tyler's arms, and crept to the bathroom.

Dark was there, of course, waiting for him. Or maybe he wasn't. He offered him a knife, handle first. 

Ethan took it. Dark smiled, eyes glittering black in the night. 

He stepped back as Ethan stepped into the bathtub, sliding down the tile wall, feeling tired all of a sudden. He knew what Dark wanted him to do, but he didn't care. 

Ethan looked up at Dark. “If I do this, will remember?” He just wanted this to be over.

Dark pondered that for a moment. “Yes, if it's by your own hand. You won't spend eternity with me, of course, but who am I to stand in your way?” 

Ethan looked doubtful, turning the knife over in his palm. “And you'll make sure he won't end up like me, like this?”

Dark shrugged. “I would never go back on my promise to you. You are my favorite after all.”

Ethan look down, setting the sharp edge against his inside wrist. Then, after gathering of all his courage, slashed it open, doing the same with the other.

He rested his head back against the cool tile, tears coming silently because of the pain in his wrists and because of him. 

Dark opened the bathroom door and walked out. Ethan knew he would never see him again. He had gotten what he wanted, one way or another. And he always would.

Tyler would probably never forgive him, but Ethan didn't want him to forget, not after tonight. He'd meant what he said on the bridge, that he loved him.

 

Ethan died at 3:06 a.m. in his bathtub, surrounded by his own blood, with the person he loved most in the world sound asleep in the other room. 

He would be remembered, though, by everyone who loved him. And in the weeks that followed, Tyler thought of him all the time.

Especially at night when he heard footsteps coming down the hall.


End file.
